


Sweet Love

by flyingonfeatherlesswings



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 02:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14684841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonfeatherlesswings/pseuds/flyingonfeatherlesswings
Summary: Wong finds his place at the New York Sanctum and in Stephen Strange's life.





	Sweet Love

**Author's Note:**

> My third fic in three days HOLY FUCK I need to stop.   
> But guys they share a favorite ice cream flavor :( They are married :(   
> I had to write this

Wong couldn’t say what day he moved into the Sanctum, it happened gradually. He had gotten a new, very adept, very enthusiastic assistant librarian at Kamar-Taj and so he had more time to help Stephen sort out the mess of the library at the New York Sanctum. Master Drumm had been a good master for the place but he hadn’t taken an interest in the old tomes found there, not like Stephen Strange, who was thirsty for any knowledge he could get his hands on. Stephen had basically begged Wong to help him sort through the pile of books and Wong had reluctantly agreed.

To his surprise, Wong found that he liked spending time with the American sorcerer. So many of the other sorcerers of Kamar-Taj came with their own perceived notions of magic because they had come from a long lineage of magic users. It was refreshing to see someone like Stephen Strange try his hand at the mystic arts, his pale blue eyes sparkling with delight, the skin around them crinkling, when he mastered a tricky spell.

Didn’t hurt that Wong found him uncomfortably pretty.

It had been easier when Wong thought he was ass. So simple to dismiss the novice and assume that he would get what he wanted and leave, like so many others. But now, he was a constant presence in his life. Wong basically had a room in the Sanctum, he had stayed late so many nights and Stephen had implored him to just bunk down there. He had even started regularly cooking dinner for Stephen, just as long as the other man bought the ingredients. His internal body clock was set to New York time.

As him and Stephen grew closer unfortunately Wong’s crush on other man grew stronger. He watched Stephen deal with threats, willing to sacrifice himself but managing to weasel himself out of situations. Wong happily faced down foes next to him. Wong liked being a librarian but being a hero with Stephen Strange did have its thrills.

Of course, Stephen bore the literal and mental scars from these adventures, especially the ones that Wong had not been able to accompany him on. One night, Wong had been awoken by something tugging on his arm. His eyes sprung open and adjusted to the darkness to find the Cloak of Levitation pulling on his shirt sleeve, pointing to the door. Wong stumbled out of bed, thinking something had broken into the Sanctum and followed after the relic, only to be led to Stephen’s bedroom.

Wong pushed open the door to and instantly knew something was amiss, based on the whining and whimpering he heard. The light from the hallway illuminated the figure of Stephen on the bed, thrashing about and gripping the sheets, sweat on his brows and tears streaming down his face.

“No! No please, no more!” the American cried out.

Wong couldn’t bare to see his friend in such turmoil. And he strode over to the bed and sat down, shaking the man by the shoulder, “Stephen, Stephen! Wake up! You’re having a bad dream!”

After a bit more shaking and Wong having to snap his fingers in his face, Stephen’s eyes sprung open and his scrambled back into his pillows before recognizing his friend. “Wong?” asked Stephen in a dazed state.

This was when Stephen was supposed to act embarrassed and lie about being alright. He’d shoo off Wong and they would act like that night didn’t happen when they saw each other the next morning. Stephen wasn’t supposed to lunge forward and wrap his arms around Wong and start sobbing.

Wong sat there shocked, unsure what to do with an inconsolable Stephen Strange in his arms. He settled for rocking motions and rubbing his friend’s back, whispering, “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re in the Sanctum.”

Wong knew he had probably been seeing images from his encounter with Dormammu, something that Wong did not know the details of. He hoped Stephen would talk to him about it someday. 

Once Stephen had calmed down and his breaths had evened, he pulled back and Wong released him, even though there was something inside him that told him to hold Stephen closer. “I’m sorry,” said Stephen, his lips still quivering and his eyes glistening, “I woke you up.”

“I don’t need much sleep, it’s okay,” said Wong before he stood up and walked over to the adjacent bathroom, wetting a washcloth and bringing it to Stephen to wipe off his face. He also handed Stephen the glass of water by his bed, satisfied when the other man took a big gulp.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Wong, already knowing the answer.

Stephen shook his head.

“Do you want me to go?” asked Wong.

Stephen reached forward with a gasp to grasp Wong’s sleeping tunic, “No, please! Stay, just sit here for a little while until my mind slows down, until I know that I am here.”

Wong moved to sit against the headboard, while Stephen laid back down on his side. They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, but then Wong was distressed to hear Stephen’s breathing start to quicken again.

“Stephen, come here,” said Wong, moving down to lay his head against the pillow and to open an arm so Stephen could lay up against his side. Stephen wrapped an arm and a leg around Wong and pressed his face into his friend’s shoulder.

“Just breathe with me Stephen, breathe in time with me,” said Wong.

They both did so, and before they knew it, they had fallen asleep.

The next morning was surprisingly not that awkward. Wong had tried to detach himself from Stephen to sneak out, but Stephen had held on tight, eventually relinquishing the librarian with a stretch and a “good morning” followed by a smack of his lips. They had ended up chatting amicably until Stephen had pushed Wong up and out of bed, begging for breakfast.

That was not the last time Wong would have to console Stephen after a nightmare, and Wong ended up staying in bed with him most of the time. Wong had not been bold enough to suggest that he just sleep in Stephen’s bed. Though sometimes they didn’t go back to sleep, sometimes they watched late night TV on the Sanctum’s ancient set that somehow got every channel from everywhere. They would drift off on the couch watching a Chinese drama that Wong would translate for Stephen. Other times they went to the library and Wong would “bore Stephen to sleep”, as Stephen said, with his ramblings about some old tome or another.

One night they ended up in the kitchen. Stephen had been wrapped around Wong like usual and like usual Wong had asked him if he needed anything, normally Stephen said no but this time Stephen asked if they still had that carton of ice cream in the freezer.

So there they were chatting and eating ice cream at 2am with two spoons out of a carton. Stephen had started bringing home different flavors with the groceries that he had coerced Wong into trying. They would sample the ice cream and had come up with an elaborate grading scale. Tonight, it was their favorite, Hulk-a-Hulk-a-Burning Fudge.

Sometimes watching Stephen lick the spoon with those shapely lips was torture for Wong and tonight he seemed to be taking his own sweet time. Wong could have sworn that he was throwing him glances to see if he was watching. He tried to keep his eyes trained on his own bowl.

When Wong got a little ice cream on the side of his mouth though, he could have fainted when a long, thin scarred finger reached over to wipe it off. So Strange _was teasing_ him, well two could play that game and before Stephen could pull his hand away Wong leaned forward and licked it.

It was supposed to be a childish thing, something you might do with your siblings to make them screech with disgust. He didn’t expect Stephen to leave his finger there and let Wong swirl his tongue around it. When Wong looked up, Stephen’s pale cheeks were a bright pink and his blue eyes were wider than Wong had ever seen them, the pupils dilated.

Wong was tired of this dancing around, not really being anything with Stephen. Not his friend, his roommate, his mentor, his colleague. He would make them something. And so, Wong grasped Stephen by the wrist, stood up from his chair, and tugged the other man up so he could bring their mouths together in a sweet kiss. Wong’s hands going up the back of Stephen’s sleeping shirt, Stephen’s arms going around Wong’s neck.

When they pulled away for air, Stephen laughed and leaned his forehead on Wong, “I thought you would never do that, I thought I would have to start humping you in your sleep for you to get the idea.”

Wong helped Stephen get his shirt off, dumping it on the floor of the kitchen, and started to kiss up Stephen’s long neck. Stephen pushed him back though and took his hand, “Come on, we can have sex in the kitchen at some later date. But for the first time let’s do it properly in a bed. _Our bed_.” Stephen tried to tug Wong toward the door, but the other sorcerer simply reached up, took his sling-ring out of the front pocket on his sleeping tunic and opened a portal.

“No wasting time, eh?” asked Stephen.

“I’m done wasting time,” said Wong as he and Stephen hopped through the portal hand and hand and tumbled into bed.

After that they weren’t sure what to call their relationship. Lovers sounded outdated and too cold, boyfriends sounded too juvenile, and they couldn’t really be called friends with benefits when they were each other’s only friend.

“How about partners?” asked Wong one night, spooning up against Stephen.

“I like partners, we sound like we are _detectives_ ,” agreed Stephen.

Things carried on as normal, mostly. They would face off against magical and interdimensional beasts and foes. Though now they used the adrenaline to go about three or four rounds in bed, impressive for men their age. Wong also continued sorting through the Sanctum’s vast library, though his work would be interrupted by a small portal opening next to him and a hand coming through, placing a cup of tea in front of him on the desk. Wong would turn and give Stephen a quick peck on the lips and the portal would close. Stephen also interrupted his work in the library in a more intense fashion on the occasion. A fashion that would involve Wong sweeping off the books from his desk, swinging Stephen up onto the desk while cursing the many belts that Stephen liked to wear with his robes. He normally became frustrated and just used magic to get them off.

One morning they woke up late, having spent the night working through a book that Wong had gotten his hands on which was referred to as the Kama Sutra of the mystic arts. They were sore and covered in dried fluids, but that didn’t stop Stephen from swinging his leg over Wong and riding him, Wong’s hands gripping Stephen’s tiny waist and Stephen’s long neck thrown back as he moaned above him.

After that Wong ushered a jelly limbed Stephen into the bathroom and they enjoyed a long bath in the clawfoot bathtub, Stephen laying back against Wong’s chest. Wong had helped Stephen clean his hair with his much-coveted hair products.  

“You’re so vain, Strange,” said Wong.

“You like me pretty,” said Stephen with a kiss to Wong’s cheek as they helped each other out of the bath.

“Well, I would think you pretty even bald.”

Stephen laughed, “Not all of us can rock the bald look, baby.”

They had toweled off, Stephen using a modified version of the Winds of Watoomb to dry his hair instantly. Stephen had come up behind Wong at one point, wrapping his hands around the other man and squeezing his pecs. Wong had shook him off and used a towel to swat him away.

“It’s almost one Strange, no more of that! I am starving,” said Wong.

Stephen had sighed and gotten dressed in his pants, grey shirt and black cardigan. He had to admit that he was hungry too.

“I’ll go and grab us something?” Stephen asked Wong as he pulled on his sorcerer robes.

“Hmm I wouldn’t mind something from that deli down the street,” said Wong as they exited their bedroom.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda angsty at the end if you didn't pick that up....sorry.


End file.
